


Hunter's Game

by redblackjack



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Basement (Dead By Daylight), Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Bondage, Caught, Chaptered, Clothed Sex, Deviates From Canon, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fear, Fear Play, First Time, Games, Guilt, Held Down, Humiliation, Internal Conflict, Loss of Control, Loss of Virginity, MacMillan Estate (Dead By Daylight), Mask, Multiple Partners, Open Relationship, Rape Roleplay, Rescue, Roleplay, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Secretly a Virgin, Sex, Sex Games, Sexual Roleplay, Strap-On, Surprise Sex, Trapped, Uninformed Consent, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redblackjack/pseuds/redblackjack
Summary: That night at the wooded fringes of the MacMillan Estate, the Hunter has arranged a BDSM game with his partner and three others. For Leah, this game turns out to be more than she's ready for. For Heather, it’s an opportunity to be a hero. For Grace, it’s a guilty pleasure. For Dawn, it’s secretly her very first time.





	1. The First Victim

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Megan D. and Evaleastaristev for beta reading this story. Concrit and all other comments welcome.

Few limits. Not none, of course, but few, and mostly standard at that: no marks on the face, no permanent damage, no sharps. Apart from that, almost anything was fair game, and except for the safeword, all protests would go unheeded.  


The Hunter had negotiated with each participant personally, one-on-one, to be sure of what they wanted. Leah, for one, had given her usual blanket permission for him to do his worst, and from almost a year now as her partner, he was familiar with her tastes: submission, humiliation, and being physically subdued and controlled. The only thing she really didn’t care for, frankly, was sex.  


Heather, an assertive switch, had joined for the chance to act out her martyr and rescue fantasies. Normally, she'd told him, she preferred to play as a dom, but this was one of those special scenes where she'd make an exception -- because it sounded fun and because she trusted him to not screw it up.

Grace, an enthusiastic sub, had simply emphasized that she was willing to do anything, as long as it was safe. When the Hunter raised some of the possibilities, she had only nodded through the entire list and then insisted "don't make me choose."  


Dawn, similarly, was open to almost anything -- and made sure to explicitly mention penetrative sex. "The only thing I don't want you to do," she'd told him, "is hold back."  


* * *

A shivering, raven-haired woman crouched low behind a gnarled oak and peered around the trunk as she tried to keep her breathing quiet. The bell had just rung, signaling the beginning of the game. That meant the gates had been closed and the Hunter was out there.  _ Where,  _ though, she couldn't be sure. Zipping her hoodie up her neck, Leah Han could already feel her pulse rising and her mouth going dry as she turned her head, trying to anticipate which direction to look in.  


Ahead to her left, she could see the old dilapidated shack with the lights on somewhere on the second floor, shining through the windows. Ahead of her more directly, she could see a scattered array of old crates and pallets in a shrouded clearing, obscured by the fog. To her right, she could make out the faint outline of a rotted old cabinet against an older brick building's crumbling remains, half its walls worn down to the height of gravestones. It was there that she caught her first glimpse of the blonde. That had to be Grace over there.  


Leah pressed her hand against the bark of the oak tree as she pivoted on the balls of her feet and looked closer, brushing a strand of black hair over her ear with her other hand. She caught sight of another movement again, and she realized that Grace wasn't alone. She and Heather had already found each other. What were they doing over there? It was hard to tell, with half a brick wall in the way, but it looked like they might have already found one of the puzzle boxes. That was technically the objective, after all -- solve the puzzles, find the keys, and escape. After a moment of thought, Leah decided it would make sense to go meet up and join them, if she could just get across the clearing undetected.  


A crow cawed from the tree above her and she jumped, then clasped her hand over her mouth, faintly laughing at her own nerves. The atmosphere was getting to her. All this fog, the cold air, the distant sound of wind howling through the old trees… it would have been enough to make goosebumps rise on her skin even without the Hunter's game.  


After a moment to steady herself, she began to creep forward to the next closest tree, slowly making her way toward the two other players. The other one, Dawn, had to be out here in the hunting grounds somewhere, too, but she didn't see her yet. As Leah carefully avoided breaking any twigs with her footsteps, she wondered if the other women had seen her yet either. It might make sense to stick together, at least at first. She crossed toward a third tree and stepped carelessly, crushing a leaf under foot. Leah bit her tongue to keep from cursing. Another crow startled her by taking flight. Quickly, she looked around to make sure no one had seen or heard. And that's when she saw the mask.  


It covered the face of the dark figure in an oilcloth coat, already close and coming toward her, shoulders swaying.

She froze. It was instinctive, automatic; she couldn't help but lock up the instant she saw him, still crouched down low to the ground. She was partially hidden among the tall grass, so maybe he wouldn't see her -- but he was coming this way.  


Leah waited. She watched him stalk through the evening mist with the flogger in his hand and the rope in the other, the tools coming more distinctly into view with each leisurely stride. The Hunter was in no hurry to take his victims.  


In that moment, Leah still believed he hadn't seen her. She couldn't have moved even if she'd wanted to. He was getting closer, but he might pass by.  


He didn't see her. He didn't see her. He didn't see her. As long as she stayed low in the grass, he might just pass her right by, she told herself, on loop, as her heart hammered harder and harder in her chest and her palms started sweating.  


Only a few meters between them remained. He didn't see her. He didn't--  


The Hunter lunged for her and she screamed. Turning, she bolted away. In the distance she saw the other women scatter. She swerved around a pile of crates and kept running.  


There was nowhere to go, nothing she could use to get away, nothing she could do to stop him if she caught her. She just had to keep running until she found a way to break his line of sight. It wasn't long before her legs were burning. She could hear him running after her, close, but she couldn't tell  _ how _ close.

She glanced back over her shoulder. Her masked pursuer was right there behind her, so close that she shrieked. He swung the flogger at her back; she felt the strike, the sting, another strike again, and just as she dashed around another tree she tripped and hit the ground.  


A hand grabbed her ankle. She screamed again, louder.  


Leah struggled against him, but try as she might to get away, he was already binding her. His skilled fingers wound the coarse prickly rope around her wrists with a well-practiced expertise. Then he scooped her up like a sack of flour to heft her over his shoulder. She thrashed and wailed and struggled to escape his iron grip -- to no avail -- as he began to carry her.  


Her voice felt like it was wearing thin and turning hoarse with strain. Tears had sprung to her eyes at the  _ indignity  _ of being caught first, but as she blinked them back, she realized she could see movement. Not far in the distance, the tall grass rustled. Someone was following them -- Heather. Leah didn't know her well, but she recognized her by the leather bomber jacket and the distinctive braid of her hair. The tall woman was crouched low, partially hidden by a stack of crates, and as their eyes met, she raised a finger to her lips.  


Leah whimpered and continued struggling. Her heart was pounding like a hammer in her chest. She couldn't even see where they were going, only the long grass swaying in the Hunter's wake. His strong arm felt fixed as a steel trap around her. Overhead, a shadow loomed. As they passed through a doorway, she realized with a sense of dread that he was taking her into the shack, and then, descending the stairs, she realized he was taking her into the  _ basement.  
_

There was little time to prepare herself for what might be in store for her there. They'd reached the final landing and the next thing she knew, she was dropped onto her feet, facing the brick wall, arms pulled overhead, bound wrists being strung over a metal hook. She let the tears fall from her eyes and whimpered softly, but when she felt his hands at her belt, that's when her breath caught in her throat. She'd expected flogging. She'd expected taunts. She hadn't thought to expect anything else.  


From where he stood behind her, he unbuckled the front her belt, unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, and pulled them down.  


She stopped breathing.  


Her black cotton panties had been torn down to her ankles, and the air felt cold against her skin. Her throat tightened. She swallowed soundlessly.  


A second zipper purred behind her. She couldn't see, but the sounds were familiar enough for her to recognize -- the Hunter readying his strap-on and unrolling a fresh condom over the length.

Her entire body trembled.  


She braced herself. She closed her eyes. She felt a foreign object separate her tender lips and begin to press inside her, so dry that it hurt. Her knees instinctively tried to close, but it didn't stop him. Her body was tense with resistance that he callously pushed past.  


It was happening. This was happening to her. With her hands bound here in the dark, cold basement, she was being penetrated. She felt his warm, roughened hands on her hips, and she let out a choked sob as he continued to push into her, between her legs. Her body had completely locked up and frozen on her again as it happened. Unable to move, unable to resist, unable to escape, unable to do anything but breathe, she panted shallow, ragged breaths as her captor began to thrust, fucking her against the wall.  


Fresh tears squeezed out between the tightly shut lids of her eyes in humiliation. She tried to will herself to submit, to just give in. His cock had been thrusting in and out long enough by that point for her body to adapt and wet the path, but his movements were becoming even rougher. She clenched her teeth through it and pressed her forehead against the wall. She tried, tried, tried to release the tension in her body and just breathe. His cock pumped her hard. She felt frozen all the way through. She couldn't even speak. He knew how she felt about his cock and he was subjecting her to it anyway. As he had his way with her, her legs and arms felt like they were de-solidifying, turning to jelly, until the rope binding her wrists to the hook and to each other was the only thing holding her up.  


Abruptly he pressed her chest and cheek to the wall and she gasped as his cock hammered her even harder. Tension wound through her body like a spring. She stopped breathing again. He fucked her little hole with ravenous force, violating her fiercely, until she heard him groan his satisfaction. Her own modest arousal remained suspended, wound, unresolved, as he reached an early self-centered climax. The Hunter held her hips tight, still, still, still, and released.  


Slowly, the strap-on was withdrawn from between her lips, emptying her out. She still felt wretchedly flushed and needy, but he was already done with her.  


Leah pried open her eyes, shuddering and peering off to the side in the dim basement light. Only then did she see the standing cabinet against the wall, where a human eye was peering back at her from within.


	2. The Failed Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're here, thanks for sticking around for the second chapter.

Heather Finn's pulse was racing. She had just seen everything, and she was still just a stone's throw from where the Hunter still stood, now leisurely zipping up and buttoning his pants. She could barely breathe, still waiting to see if she would be discovered where she was hidden here in the cabinet. So far, it didn't look like the Hunter had even noticed her. Once he had picked up his rope and his flogger again, he stood there a moment, admiring Leah's exposed flesh, and then turned to ascend the stairs. He was leaving. He was gone. 

As soon as he was out of sight, Heather pushed open the creaky cabinet door and stepped out to go help. "Don't worry," she began. "I'm gonna get you free, alright?" 

The words received no reply. Leah had closed her eyes again -- with what emotion, Heather couldn't say -- as the taller woman closed the distance between them and began to work quickly at the ropes. 

Quickly, but not quickly enough. 

The Hunter's heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs. Her heart lurched. There wasn't time. 

Heather abandoned her goal and dashed for the cabinet again to hide, but her stomach bottomed out as the Hunter came into view and she realized he'd already spotted her. 

"SHIT!" she screamed, and she bolted in the other direction, but there was no other way out. 

The Hunter said nothing. Not even to taunt her. Somehow, that scared her all the worse. He came at her in that menacingly confident gait of his, and she tried to loop back and get to the stairs, but he reached them at the same time she did, cutting her off, and that's when he lashed at her with the flogger. 

It wasn't like her to cower, it wasn't like her to make noise at getting hit -- but she did. He hit her again, and she did it again. He hit her a third time and she dashed for the stairs, but he grabbed her by the arm, and the next thing she knew, she was being thrown down to the floor, subdued, and forcibly tied against shrieks of protest. She knew, at that point, that she wasn't getting away. 

"_ I'm so sorry! _" she wailed -- to Leah, not to him. He kept his silence as he hooked her wrists over another mounted hook, making her turn her back to him and face the wall. "I'm sorry, Leah, I thought he was gone! I thought I could save you! I thought I--" 

He unzipped her camo pants and pulled them down to her boots, taking her gray boxer briefs down with them.

"_ NO! _" The word shot from her throat so fast and so loud she almost choked on it. She screeched and thrashed. This shouldn't have been happening to her. She was was supposed to be the savior. She was supposed to be masterful. She was supposed to be the final holdout. A condom package crinkled behind her. She felt white hot with stubborn refusal, feeling for one fleeting moment like she might burn the ropes or snap the metal through sheer force of will. 

Then his hot, stiff cock began to slide inside her, and she moaned. 

All her resistance melted. She had been rightfully defeated, and she accepted him deep. In her mind, this was the price of failure. 

And it occurred to her, right then, that she was paying that price with a witness to hear it. 

Heather's face inflamed with a bright-red blush at the thought, because this wasn't just something she could keep between herself and the Hunter. Leah, too, _ knew _she had failed to save her. And now she would be able to hear every second of the consequences. 

"I'm sorry," she said again, her voice turning more husky. "Leah -- I'm sorry… I couldn't…" She hung her head, and she bit her lip to try and keep from moaning. She didn't want to sound like she was enjoying it. She didn't want to _ be _enjoying it. She silenced herself as best she could, though she couldn't silence the impact of their bodies, skin against skin, as the Hunter ravaged her. 

Across the small, dim room, hung from the hook on the opposite wall, Leah was trying not to listen. Once more, her knees came together and tried to hold her legs tightly closed, though this time for a very different reason. Her body was beginning to feel flushed and hot, especially between her legs. The more she listened, the worse it got. The humiliation -- it was getting to her. She knew the Hunter had a sexual nature, and they'd opened their relationship for that reason, but she'd never been _ present _ for him having sex with another partner before. From the breathy, heady sounds Heather was leaking like blood from a wound, Leah felt like she was learning first-hand what a woman having sex was _ supposed _to sound like. This was what her partner was missing out on when he was with her. This was the reason he saw other people. She clenched her legs tightly shut. 

Her own breath felt hot against her forearm, and she felt a trickle of something wet start to drip down the inside of her naked thigh. She was getting terribly... worked up. Terribly, terribly, terribly worked up. It was so terrible it was almost good, and she stopped trying to ignore the sounds and instead began to let herself listen. 

She could almost picture what was happening, just from the sounds. The Hunter was thrusting into the other woman, spearing her with his cock. Heather's mouth hung open with full-throated moans. When she shut it and bit down on her lower lip, the sounds became more muffled, instead vibrating through her nasal palate, but before long she was panting for breath again and her pink-red lips fully parted wide open. Between her legs, she was taking his cock. Leah imagined that she was arching her back into it, tilting her hips in wanton invitation. 

In reality, Heather was doing no such thing. Her hips would have been angled away if not for the Hunter's firm hands seizing control, and she was still still making half-hearted attempts to shake him off, a flickering ember of resistance refusing to die. This wasn't right, she reminded herself. She shouldn't have been overtaken this quick. It should have been Grace first, Leah second, Dawn third, and her last, if at all. She'd had a whole plan worked out in her mind for how she would evade him the entire night and then laugh in his face in the morning. She'd had entire elaborate fantasies about the taunting she might get to enjoy at his expense. She alone out of the four was supposed to be the wily champion, the one who came out of this game on top, untamed, undefeated. 

And instead, here she was, tied up in his basement, legs spread, getting pounded against the wall. She felt truly forced into submission, and she moaned brokenly. 

There was only one last form of resistance she could muster. She was unable to fight him off, physically, and she was unable to fight back the pleasure, either, so she decided to siphon her last sparks of stubbornness into her one last recourse she had left: her words. 

"You… won't… get…. away… with… this," she managed, as she took his cock. "I--" 

She gasped as he sped up the thrusts and it was all she could do to pant for air. Her last protests almost dissolved completely. A warm, familiar pressure was building inside her. 

"Fuck-- no-- I'm not-- I'm still-- I'm still going to win this-- you _ ass-- hole-- _ you can't-- you can't-- you're not gonna make me c--" The fucking turned rougher and she screeched. " _ AH! _ N- no-- hah-- ah-- ah-- ah-- ah-- _ ah-- ah-- ah-- ah-- ah-- AH-- AHH-- AHH-- AHHHHHHH! _" 

Her voice rose to a magnificent scream as he pushed her body to the brink of orgasm, making her walls clench firmly around his shaft. Wave upon wave of unwanted pleasure flowed through her, all the way down to her curled toes. 

It was done. It was over. She was wrong. He had won. 

Heather trembled and went slack on the hook. 

The cock was pulled out of her and the condom removed as she simply hung there, in silence, save for her ragged breathing in the aftermath of the violent climax. She heard him zip himself up again. The stairs creaked under his boots as the Hunter began to leave, ascending out of the basement, leaving her still tied there with her pants down at her feet.


	3. The Payment

His knots were good, but they weren't _ that _good. The real cincher, though -- or lack thereof -- was the hooks, instead of closed rings. That was what made it possible for Heather to pull off her own self-rescue. That was how the rules had been explained to them, after all: anyone could help each other escape. 

But Heather, though? Heather didn't need anyone's help, apparently, or so Leah gathered when she looked back over her shoulder and saw that the taller woman was in the process of getting herself free. Standing up on the tips of her toes and stretching up her arms, she finally lurched far enough for the rope to unhook, then quickly caught her balance and righted herself. 

Her face lit up with a self-satisfied smirk. 

She'd gotten off the hook, and now there was just one more part to her escape. The Hunter's coarse hemp rope still bound her wrists together. She wriggled out of the tie with the speed and skill that Leah guessed came from experience. Eventually, her hands were chafed but free. Heather bent over and pulled her pants back up to get herself fully dressed. "That takes care of that," she mumbled under her breath. 

Then she looked to the opposite wall. Leah was still there, hands tied over a hook, her pants down around her ankles, looking back at her. Their eyes met. 

"And as for you..." She began to cross the distance, her legs still a little weak and unsteady from exertion, but still firm enough under her to walk with. She sidled up to her, grinned warmly, and asked, "Come here often?" 

Leah wasn't trying to look at her anymore. She looked up at the ceiling instead. She blinked a few times, her breathing stiff, like she was trying to steel herself, and bit her lower lip. Her silence, however, wasn't enough to deter the other woman's attempts at conversation. 

"Doesn't look like he took the flogger to you. You get the same treatment as me?" Heather asked. She was looking down at where the hem of Leah's black jacket ended and her pale bare skin had been left exposed. 

Leah felt herself flushing bright red. Just her luck that her partner would get her trapped down here with another dom_ . _She flinched when she suddenly felt a hand. 

"Shh, hey, hey, why so jumpy? I'm not gonna hurt you. …Damn, you sure can turn red though, can't you? I think I see what he likes about you." 

That only made it worse. 

"Ahhh, I see. It's like _ that _ , huh?" Heather leaned her shoulder against the wall as she sized the other woman up in a glance. "Still nothing to say for yourself?" she prompted. No answer. "...That's alright. We can let your body do the talking. How'd you feel about being down here with the two of us during, you know -- all that _ fucking, _ right there behind your back?" 

Leah flinched again when she felt warm fingers meet her vulva. 

"Holy _ shit _are you wet down here." 

She bit her lower lip so hard she thought it might bleed, and she refused to speak. She wasn't sure she could have even found her voice if she'd tried.

"So he got you going like this, and then he just left you here. What a shame." Heather kept on talking, undaunted by the lack of response. "...You know what? If he won't take care of you, _ I _ will. What do you say to that?" 

Leah exhaled shakily, spread her feet another inch apart, and said, "Okay." 

"..._ 'Okay'? _" she repeated. "That's what I get? Fucking 'okay'?" 

The sudden push of her fingers inside her earned a sharp inhale and an urgent, "_ Yes ma'am. _" 

"That's more like it," Heather stated flatly. "Now -- I'm going to rescue you from that hook up there and free your hands, just as soon as you do one little thing for me, first." 

Leah spread her legs a little wider again. 

"You know what that is?" 

She nodded. 

"I said, you know what that is?" 

"Yes ma'am." 

"What is it?" 

Leah hesitated, then managed, "...Come." 

"That's exactly right." 

Leah let her head droop forward to press her forehead against the wall. There wasn't any chance in hell of Heather making that happen. She liked the woman well enough, but her style wasn't anything like what she was into, and instead of feeling frightened or excited, she just felt uncomfortable. She endured the fingering without a sound as Heather's other hand started creeping up under her shirt, and she remained unresisting, tolerant, standing still and silent through it all. The submission came to her easily, but it didn't really do anything for her. Not like… before. Not like... how it had felt... _ overhearing _... Heather and the Hunter going at it, just moments ago. Leah would have tried to reminisce on the recent memory, to fantasize, to stir up some spark of a feeling that way, but it was too hard to focus with Heather touching her, right here, right now, keeping her mind stuck on the more tepid present. She thought about how the texture of the wall felt against her forehead as Heather dug her fingers deeper, and she didn't make a sound.

".....Do you want me to stop?" 

Leah stiffened and opened her mouth, but she wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't trying to disappoint anyone. 

"I said _ do you want me to stop? _"

"N-no ma'am," she sputtered. 

Heather stopped, pulling her fingers out. Leah slumped more heavily against the wall and whimpered. Without Heather's fingers inside her, she suddenly felt achingly empty. It was what she might have _ thought _she wanted, but somehow, this was actually worse. 

A few seconds later and she gasped loudly as Heather's fingers dove into her again and furiously worked her depths. 

"_Do you think we have all night?_" the woman hissed. "_Do you think we have all night down here before the Hunter gets back?_"

Leah panted heavily and scrunched up her face, twisting her neck. 

"_How's it going to look when he comes back down here with another victim and catches you like this, letting yourself get used like a toy by someone else? Do you think he's going to bother with the other one first? Or do you think he'll come straight back and reassert his claim over _ ** _you_**_?_" 

A loud gasp and the beginnings of a tight squirm. Leah pulled against her bindings and wished it was over. She knew what Heather was doing, or trying to do, but the cutting words didn't reach her, and the stimulation only felt rough and overwhelming. She realized then that she couldn't simply wait for her to give up. 

"_Do. you. think. we. have. all. night?_" 

Heather rubbed at her clit and her hips bucked, so the woman kept rubbing, kept rubbing, kept rubbing. Leah squirmed. She arched her back into it. She rocked her hips and accepted her fingers inside her again and pictured the Hunter taking this woman who was now taking her. None of it would be enough, she knew. All she wanted at that point was to escape and get on with the game, so she decided to let Heather think she'd gotten what she wanted. 

Leah clenched her walls tight around the woman's fingers in a string of successive spasms and cried out passionately to fake an orgasm. It was a well-practiced performance. She wasn't surprised when it worked.

"_Good _ girl," Heather crooned. "Good girl. That's all I wanted, see? _ Now _ you can go." 

Heather waited some time for Leah to breathe, then pulled out her sticky fingers from between her lips. As she unhooked the ropes and began to untie them, she pretended not to notice the way that Leah refused to meet her eyes.


	4. The Window

The curvy, curly-haired blonde could hear screams coming from the basement as she crept past the massive woodpile. Grace Callas was ignoring the sounds, simply searching for the next puzzle box. She'd already found and solved one, releasing the key inside, and while the Hunter was distracted with other women, all she had to worry about was finding the next one. There was a good prize in it for her if she won, so there was real incentive to try -- even for her. BDSM gear could get expensive, after all. And she was a woman of expensive tastes.

Shivering, she buttoned her denim jacket up higher and dug her hands into her pockets. The autumn chill out here at this hour was sharp enough to make her wish she'd worn more layers tonight, especially whenever the wind picked up and blew hard enough to howl through the trees. It was definitely too cold out to be wearing this little skirt. She moved to the other side of an old gray oak as a buffer against the wind... and then, off ahead, she spotted something. The glint off the metal clasp of an old wooden trunk -- a promising sight. It had to have another one of the puzzle boxes she was looking for.

Grace looked around for any sign of any of the other players, but it looked like she was alone out here, aside from a couple of crows in the branches overhead. Still, just to be safe, she tried to keep quiet and stealthy as she crossed toward the trunk, knelt down before it, and opened the lid. Sure enough, inside lay a puzzle box. This one looked more difficult than the first one, too. Challenging, but fun. 

Grace began trying to solve it and quickly got sucked into the task, remaining crouched there on the spot. Every once in a while, she would glance around or look back over her shoulder, but each time she looked, everything was still the same -- the same trees and tall grass, the same moonlight and shadows, the same crows. 

As she worked at the puzzle, Grace idly began to wonder where that other woman, Dawn, had gotten off to. The hunting grounds had to be a pretty big area, since the two hadn't run into each other yet, not even once... She looked back over her shoulder again. Same trees, same shadows, same crows. Everything looked the same. Except this time, when she looked, she realized, with growing apprehension, she wasn't hearing the screams coming from the Hunter's shack anymore. She couldn't even say how long it had been that the shack went silent. 

Her heart started beating a little faster. Grace clutched the puzzle box against her chest and decided to put some distance between herself and the trunk; now was the time to get away from such an obvious place to look for the players. She hurried quickly across to a cluster of crates and looked back again. Same trees. Same shadows. The crows took flight. She caught a glimpse of human movement behind them, some shadowy figure headed her way, and cupped her hand over her mouth. Someone was coming. 

Grace turned and bolted in the opposite direction as fast as her legs would take her. Where could she hide? There was a cluster of pallets and diminished masonry up ahead to her left, and to her right -- to her right, rounding the trunk of a thick hundred-year-old oak, there emerged a figure in a mask. 

She screamed, stumbled, swerved. She'd been wrong. Whoever or whatever had startled the crows back there, it wasn't the Hunter -- because now he was  _ there _ , he'd seen her, and he was coming right for her. 

She glanced back as she ran. He was gaining on her. He was strong and quick and the only thing she had on him was agility, meaning her only chance was to put some obstacles between them and then try to lose him. 

Grace dashed for the red-brick wreckage and the pallets. Her heart hammered like a mallet within her ribs. She was sweating and heaving for breath. Ahead she could see the worn-down remains of an empty window that looked reachable. If she could just get there-- If she could just make it-- She pressed her hands on the sill and vaulted through it. 

But a hand grabbed onto her before she could reach the other side. 

Grace screamed. He had her now, and there was nothing she could do. What would he do with her? Take her down to the basement of the shack? Flog her ass? Tease her for being so afraid when she knew it was just a game? She squirmed, but his grip was strong, and he was tying her wrists together with rope, constraining her movement even more.

"Let GO of me, you--"

He flipped up her pleated skirt, revealing the lacy, cherry red undies adoring her hips that she was suddenly embarrassed about wearing tonight. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Sexy lingerie for a sexy game. Most days, she liked wearing a little something special even under ordinary outfits, but tonight was supposed to be a very special night. So she'd picked a very special set: bright red, silky soft, lined with ornate black lace, cut in just such a way as to make her wide, curvy hips look even fuller. Normally, she took pride in revealing it to a man who had earned her attention. But in that moment, she simply blushed and felt stupid. 

As she fell still under the Hunter's control, her wrists already tied, she heard a sound which she didn't immediately understand. A kind of crinkling sound, like packaging being torn open. It didn't sound like his leather flogger at all, which had her confused. Even after he pulled her lacy panties down to her ankles, she was still expecting a paddling or some kind of impact on her ass. 

It all happened so fast. 

She gasped loudly as her labia were split apart by his artificial cock. He was penetrating her. Holding her bent over still half-through the window,  _ he was penetrating her.  _ She could hardly believe this was happening. Grace remembered now that during the negotiations, she'd said she was open to anything, aside from a few common limits, but at the time she'd forgotten about Leah, his partner. She didn't know anything about their relationship. Was he cheating on her? Was this going behind her back? Was she going to be okay with this? Maybe his partner wouldn't find out -- but what if she  _ did  _ find out?  _ What if she saw?  _

Those questions were all racing through her mind, but the intercourse had already begun. The Hunter rocked his hips and thrust into her, repeatedly, as he held her helpless body hanging half-over the windowsill. Grace tried to close her legs in vain. It was already happening. He was fucking her. That was within the bounds of the game. Her mouth hung open, her face wide-eyed in shock, as she processed what was happening to her. She would have let herself enjoy it, but she couldn't stop thinking about his partner and whether or not this was okay. They hadn't talked about this. They hadn't talked about anything like this. If she could just bring herself to say the safeword, she was sure she could stop him. 

Instead of doing any such thing, she panted softly. She opened her legs. Her feet flexed into a stiff point.

Should she do it? Should she safeword and stop him, she wondered, just to ask? She just needed to know if he was cheating on his partner with her or not, but in that moment, she realized, she didn't know the Hunter well enough to know if he would lie. For all she knew, maybe this would need to be their little secret. 

The brick lining of the windowsill felt rough against her stomach as her body was steadily rocked back and forth, but between her legs, his pumping cock blessed her body with erotic ecstacy. She panted open-mouthed, face warming to a bright red. She didn't breathe a single word. Somehow, that was a worse humiliation than any mean thing he might have said to her -- learning this about herself, realizing that she was the sort of person to take the chance. Leah might be furious with her later, but in that moment, just in that moment, she couldn't shape that shame into the willpower she would have needed to stop him. 

So, to her shame, she let him. She let him take her. Aside from their breathing and the wet impacts of their bodies, the both of them were completely silent. 

Until it became too much. 

Hot with pleasure and arousal, Grace began to squirm and let a faint, high-voiced moan spill from her mouth. Just a small one. But then it was followed by another one, a longer, more strained, earthy groan, as she twisted and bucked her hips. She felt wound tight. Her fuse was burning. She couldn't believe this. She couldn't believe any bit of this. She couldn't believe she had gotten caught like this. She couldn't believe this was how he treated his victims. She couldn't believe how smoothly her body accepted his cock. She couldn't believe how it  _ felt so good.  _ She scrunched up her freckled face and groaned hideously, some of the most curdled and undignified sounds she'd ever made in her life, as she strained to angle her hips into more deeply accepting his strap. He started thrusting faster and she screeched and kicked her legs in excitement. She moaned like an animal when he pulled her hair. She threw her legs wide open and he struck her just right and she bellowed with all her lungs as she reached a climax. 

She felt like she could have flown. 

Her body went happily limp, in the aftermath.  _ That _ \-- That was worth it. Whatever happened next, that bliss had been worth it. Or so she hoped it would be. 

The more her mind cleared, the more that her doubts began to seep back in. 

She felt the Hunter lift her body up onto his shoulder just as her lace panties slipped loose from her ankles, falling to the ground below. "Wait," she said softly. The Hunter didn't wait. He had her on his shoulder now and was carrying her, heading away from the window and its crumbling wall. She could see it behind them now, it and her lacy little red panties left there below in the grass. "Wait!" She began to squirm against his hold on her, to no avail. "Wait! I left something! Turn around! Go back! Please! Wait!  _ Wait! _ Noooooooooo!"


	5. The Virgin

Out at the far edge of the hunting grounds, a short woman in a field jacket with cornrowed hair had just solved her second puzzle box, bringing her another key closer to winning the prize. Dawn Walker grinned and took a moment to feel proud of herself. 

Honestly, while the other elements of the game had sounded fun, the competition was what she was in it for, and while the other women fooled around and got themselves caught, she was planning to  _ win _ . So far, so good -- the Hunter was still pretty far away, if Grace's yelling and screaming earlier had been anything to go by. Then again, she hadn't heard anything in a while...

As Dawn pocketed her key and peered around a tree, she spotted Leah off in the distance, sneaking through the tall grass. After a moment of consideration, she decided against joining her. Better to stay split up, she figured. They could cover more ground that way. And frankly, it was going to take a lot of these puzzle boxes to win. 

Dawn headed in a different direction, taking care to be stealthy, especially now that it'd been a while since she'd heard any screams. The Hunter must have been out there, somewhere. She crouched low and wove a path between the trees. Externally, she was keeping an eye out for any sign of oncoming danger. Internally, she was trying to think. There must have been some kind of pattern to the placement of the puzzle boxes. He wouldn't just put them anywhere. If she could figure out the most likely spots, she might be able to find them faster, maybe even fast enough to-- 

Her foot caught on something and she tripped and landed face-first, startling a trio of crows. She pushed herself up on her hands and pulled her leg, but her foot was stuck. In what? She turned herself over to look back and squinted, barely making out any details in the moonlight, but eventually it came into focus: a snare. That asshole hat set up a  _ snare.  _

Dawn reached down to get her hands on it and started working herself out of the trap, which took some effort, but eventually her foot came loose, and she was able to freely stand up -- only to face the heartstopping sight of a figure in a mask heading right for her. 

She turned and bolted. 

Heart pounding, she looked around wildly for an escape route and spotted something. There was an old fence she could scale, up ahead, if she just made it across this clearing. She ran as fast as she could, but she still heard the Hunter gaining on her.  _ No,  _ she thought to herself.  _ No, no, no, no, no-- _ There it was. The fence. If she could just-- 

The flogger struck her back. She stumbled. The Hunter took her down and she screamed. His weight on top of her felt monumental. "NO!" she yelled, and she thrashed and tried to elbow him off her. It didn't work. He pinned her arms. Then he began to tie them. 

The rope was her favorite kind and the texture of it felt satisfying against her skin, but she tried not to get distracted or subdued. This wasn't supposed to be like a regular scene -- the way the game worked, she was  _ expected  _ to fight. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made her part as the frightened victim an easy one to play.

"Get OFF me!" she insisted, still squirming and wriggling as he finished off the last knot in the tie. 

She wondered what he was going to do to her next. She didn't have to wonder for long. The Hunter was already working her black denim jeans down off her hips. 

"What--! NO! Stop!  _ Stop! _ " 

She understood what was happening now. She'd told him, during the negotiations, that she had no limits against sex. That she would happily submit to it, even. In spite of all that, she hadn't really thought that would be a part of the game. 

What she  _ hadn't _ told him, because he hadn't asked, was that she'd never been penetrated by anything more than a finger. Instead she'd emphasized how cool she was with sex because she didn't want him to suspect she wasn't experienced. She didn't want him to think any less of her. He'd reminded her so many times what kind of game this was, and she didn't want him to think she couldn't handle it. 

And now, if she wanted to revoke her permission by using the safeword, the time to speak up was running out. 

Behind her, he was preparing himself with a fresh condom, unrolling it down the length. Hands tied, she was laying half-naked in the dirt and grass, bare skin from waist to ankle, and sobbing, "Please. Please, no. I-- I can't, I'm-- I'm a VIRGIN, I've never--" 

His cock plunged into her vagina and she screamed, in a clear high voice as pure as the moonlight. He didn't stop. He was pushing it in all the way. He was taking her virginity, and he probably didn't even know she was telling the truth. She thrashed and tried to fight, but he had her pinned. 

" _ Stop! _ " she cried out, voice breaking with emotion. Was this really what she wanted for her first time? She wasn't sure she was ready, but if she used the safeword, she would have to explain, and at this point that seemed more humiliating than just forcing herself to endure it. 

So she tried. She tried to accept what was happening to her. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her lashes, streaming down her cheeks, down to where her chin met the ground. Between her legs, the Hunter was fucking. She could feel his length all the way down the depths of her hole, taking a cock for the very first time. She hadn't resolved to actually stop him, but still, she murmured, "No… no…  _ please _ \--" 

Her breath and her voice were both all but gone. Her words were quivering. She begged him and still tried to push or squirm, but he just kept going. The fucking was relentless. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and sobbed. 

She had no idea how long it lasted, being subjected to the thrust of his cock, but eventually, something horrible began to happen. She began to feel a kind of warmth, under her skin, and not just because of the heat of feeling him right on top of her. A deep tension, deeper than the fearful tension of her muscles, was beginning to coil tightly within her. Each thrust fed the feeling. It was spreading through her, overtaking her, compelling her to give herself over. She turned her head and arched her back, and just as she was about to open her knees wider.... he pulled out, denying her release. 

Her mouth hung open in silence. Tears streaked down her face as he zipped up -- she heard the sound, the metallic purr, quick and simple. It was already over. Just like that. 

The Hunter then picked up her flushed and trembling body, heaved her over his shoulder, and began carrying her away, her vulva still flushed with unsatisfied arousal. 


	6. The Rematch

Grace pressed her forehead against the brick of the basement wall and breathed softly. She'd been down here for some time now, alone, with nothing to do but to dwell on what she'd done -- and what she hadn't done. Now that her ambivalent pleasures had faded with time, remorse was swelling up in her heart. 

It wasn't right. The Hunter should never have done something like that to her without communication first. And her -- she shouldn't have let him. But she'd given in and enjoyed the sex with someone else's partner, and now she was stuck down here, tied to a hook on the wall, waiting. Just waiting.  _ This _ was the real torture. She was ready for this damn game to be over. 

So when she heard the creak of footsteps, she looked over eagerly to see who was coming down the stairs. The footsteps didn't sound like… his. They sounded light and careful. And when the person taking those footsteps came creeping into view, Grace recognized the woman as Heather. 

She sighed in relief. "Oh good. It's you. Here -- can you help me get down from here?" 

Once sure no one else but Grace was there, Heather quickly took in the room and straightened up to her full height. "Sure -- favor for a favor?" She looked at Grace more directly, then, and her brow furrowed in mild surprise. The blonde still had her skirt on. "He didn't pants you?" 

"What? Oh -- well, sort of. He, uh--" She blushed, suddenly unsure if she should say, even to her. Luckily, Heather didn't seem to care. 

"Nevermind. Forget about him. You want off that hook, right?" 

"You bet your ass." 

Heather laughed slightly at that and sidled up to her. "Speaking of -- damn, honey, have you got some  _ hips _ ." 

Grace smiled shyly and spread her feet a little further apart, swaying her hips from side to side to flaunt them. Yet somehow, she was still surprised enough to squeak when Heather pinched her. She turned her head to her shoulder with a high nervous tremor of a laugh, and as the other woman's hand started rubbing at her curves, she leaned into her touch. 

"Here's the deal," Heather stated smoothly. "You're going to keep your feet apart, and do everything I say, and then I'll get you free from that hook, okay?" 

Grace nodded with a big bashful smile. "Yes'm." 

Heather lifted her skirt and glanced beneath it. "....Wow. Nothing underneath, huh?"

She bit her lip. 

"Not your choice?" 

She shook her head. 

"He took your panties?" 

She nodded, face flushing. 

"What a monster," Heather muttered. 

"Yeah, and I better get them back, because that pair is really cu--  _ Oh!  _ Your fingers are cold." 

"Sorry." 

"It's alright." 

Grace breathed out slowly. Although Heather's hand was chilly to the touch, it was warming up, and so was she. She could feel her pulse beginning to rise. 

"Feet wider apart." 

"Yes ma'am." 

"I'm going to hook my thumb in your mouth. You're going to suck it." 

"Yes ma'--" The thumb pushed in and she accepted it, mouth going slack, before beginning to suck. She still released a small squeak around it when she felt Heather's fingers between her other pair of lips. She was warming up and eager for it; the guiltless penetration felt like an easy redemption, clearing her of what came before. She sucked worshipfully and rocked her hips on Heather's digging, probing fingers, allowing herself to close her eyes. It'd been too long since she'd last been dominated by a woman. Heather clearly knew how to use her hands, and Grace gave herself over eagerly, feeling her arousal rising like a spire. 

But her eyes flew wide open again when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Heather's fingers were yanked from inside her and the woman rushed to try and get her quickly untied, but it was too late. The Hunter was already entering the basement, carrying a sobbing and squirming Dawn on his shoulder. He set her down roughly and went straight for the one woman in the room who was still loose. 

"FUCK OFF! You're not getting me this time, you--" Heather shrieked and cowered as she was struck with the flogger. The impact stung where she'd been hit. She tried to make a run for it, trying to make it past him, but he caught her by the shirt and pulled her back, against her thrashing limbs. "No! NO! Let GO of me." 

He didn't let go. Instead, he pushed her up against a wall and began to tie her hands, more thoroughly than last time. 

"FINE," Heather spat, as he hooked her hands overhead. "You caught me. You win. Now get out of here and go scoop up the last-- HEY! What the FUCK are you doing?" she demanded. "Oh you better not whip out your-- NO! NO! NO! You already did this to me! You can't take me again! You can't! You can't!" 

He could. He did. Once his strap was prepared, he tore off her pants, and he tore a scream from her throat by penetrating her, face to face. She fought it the entire time, but he was ruthless in his determination to hold her down and brutally fuck her, right there in front of Grace and Dawn, who were there to witness everything. She kicked and squirmed as she felt his cock plunge in deep. "You--" she panted, mustering her breath in bursts, "You EVIL MOTHERFUCKER!" 

A horde of insults poured from her mouth. Even though the Hunter hadn't hesitated even once, even though he'd done this to her once already before, she was determined to see if she could make him stop without the safeword. 

If he did, the jig was up. She'd take that as bragging rights to call him a wuss. The only play partners worthy of her submission, for a switch like her, were those who fought for it. And though her physical resistance was being subdued, she was determined to pull every trick she could think of, just to prove something to herself. Just to take her mind off the way it felt, getting caught like this, after such a tender moment of dominating another woman had been snatched out from under her. 

"STOP! STOP IT! FUCK YOU!" she screamed into his masked face, as he thrust in and out of her. "I HATE YOU, DAMMIT! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" 

All he did in response was unzip her bomber jacket, push up the white tank top underneath, and pull up her sports bra with it, forcing her breasts into exposure as his thrusting went on. Her invective increased all the worse after that. Throughout it all, the Hunter didn't speak -- but Grace did. 

"Heather," she heard her saying softly. "Heather--" 

"ENOUGH! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT OF ME! RIGHT NOW!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, still squirming as the Hunter ravaged her slit. 

"Heather, you remember the safeword, don't you?" 

"SHUT UP!" she screamed, so loud it felt like her lungs were blistering. "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" She hated that Grace was right there for this, a direct ear witness to this. It was humiliating. And still, the Hunter was fucking her, unrelentingly, at the same damn pace without letting up even for a second, like he was hearing none of it. It made her feel so  _ good. _

"PLEE-hhee-hee-heeaaseee," she whimpered, in a voice that started out strong but then broke down into heaving. " _ Please,  _ please, please, please--" Her squirming was slowly becoming more and more rhythmic, slipping into beginning to match the timing of his thrusts and rocking her hips. "Please. Please. Just-- please-- oh-- fuck, oh, please, just, oh, please let me cum. Please. Just-- Oh.  _ Oh. Oh. _ " She turned her head from side to side. " _ Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh! OH! Oh. Oh! Ohhhhh…. OhhhhhHH OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OHHH! OHHH! OHHH! OHHH! OHHHHH! _ " She arched her back and howled her pleasure, spasming with the hot delight of climax. 

When the Hunter was done with her, he pulled out and zipped up. Heather could still feel her own sticky fluids seeping down the inside of her thigh, sighing in her blissful haze of having been broken into submission. In her postcoital daze, she stared down at the Hunter's boots while he added a second tie, binding her wrists even more securely to the hook. 

With that player dealt with, the Hunter went back for Dawn, who was crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, still overwhelmed and softly spilling tears. She meekly allowed the Hunter to pick her up and hang her arms over one of the basement hooks as well. Her pants were still down around one of her ankles, her loose shirt extending down just far enough to cover some of her lower hair, but not enough to cover her flushed and leaking vulva. Her first time with the Hunter had left her hot and unsatisfied and, secretly, curious enough to long for more. 


End file.
